


Faces of the In-between

by hollowpointsmile



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowpointsmile/pseuds/hollowpointsmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Way was a hopeless writer who suffered through his job at a high school just to pay the bills. Then Gerard has accident, that may or may have not been an accident... He dies... Just not entirely... His life turns into one of his very own books where he's stuck in the little place between life and death, and Frank, a student from the English class he teaches, may be the only one that can help him get out of the in-between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Without

> _"For the tears that drip all over;_
> 
> _Mountains toppling evermore_
> 
> _Into seas **without** a shore."_
> 
> _-Dreamland-Edgar Allan Poe_

 

Happiness.

It seems that some people are fortunate enough to have it, others, not so much. A loving wife and a couple kids, maybe a dog to run around in the backyard of the family's quiet suburb home. That was supposed to be the "American dream"; the key to happiness. Anything less was just not enough. How could one expect to be happy with no two story model home next to the neighbors that always come over for dinner every Thursday? That's what everyone wanted. The simple life.

Gerard was one of the people who longed for that life. Well, it had taken a lot of convincing to force his mind into thinking like that. He didn't always want that. Oh no, there was a time when he had aspirations and dreams that reached far out of the familiar suburbs that he had grown up in. Writing was always something that had interested Gerard. Something about the way that a certain arrangement of words could convey such vast amounts of feelings perplexed him to no end. His entire life had been devoted to doing just that.

All throughout college he strove to be an author. He never passed an opportunity to write. Whether it be on the bus as he commuted to his first morning class, or sometimes when he went to the old coffee shop, he wrote. He wrote a lot. Gerard was preparing himself for his future writing career. A revolutionary author that would inspire, entertain, and most of all, express himself for who he _truly_ was.

Not many other jobs allow for someone to really show the inner depths of their true selves. Do you think that the man who lives in the average home, with his average wife and average job gets to express himself? No, because once you graduate from school, and you're thrown into the fast moving 'real world', you come to the realization that society is, to say at the least, harsh.

That is exactly what had happened to Gerard. After he graduated from college with a major in English literature, he became conscious of the reality of his life. People no longer rewarded him for writing an 'astounding piece', as his professor had exclaimed. The real world wasn't as understanding to his deeply, darkly written stories.

No one was going to hire him the way that he was, so he changed himself to fit the mold. Of course, it hadn't entirely been his choice. As stated before, it took much convincing; the majority of it coming from his longtime girlfriend, Tess. She coveted the suburban dream life, but Gerard wasn't your typical guy. He wasn't afraid to express his thoughts and feelings; that was natural for him. Unfortunately, after countless rejection from printing presses and publication companies, Gerard gave in to Tess's wishes for a cookie cutter life.

He became somewhat of a different person. He still wrote everyday, just with less passion than when he was younger. It was as if he became a cold, hollow shell of himself. Nothing made it past the edge of his brain anymore, leaving him to go throughout his daily schedule mindlessly. The only substantial thoughts that ever crossed his mind and dug a little deeper into his brain, occurred when he was taking his lunch break as a teacher at the high school. A strange time to have profound ideas, but it happened to be the only time of his day in which he was completely alone. He sat at his desk at the front of his empty classroom and quietly ate his sandwich as his mind swarmed with the thoughts that used to rattle his brain constantly. Now adays, he was limited to his thirty minute lunch break. Thirty minutes a day, dedicated to feeling momentarily real again.

You see, Gerard's job opportunites were limited after he realized that his talent wasn't suited for publication. An English teaching job opened up at the highschool a few block from the apartments he was living in at the time. Tess pursuaded him to take the job, for they needed any money they could get to pay for the rent.

Decidedly, Gerard took the teaching job, although he was never a fan of high schoolers; they were precocious little beasts that had yet to gain maturity or any form of appreciation for life. They fed off of their parents wallets, then went to parties to get high or drunk, and they had the nerve to come into class completely unprepared. Gerard heard some of the best excuses as to why students didn't have their homework with them. From time to time, he even laughed at their pathetic lies, for he did try his hardest to enjoy the little things in life. If that meant laughing just to let out some of his frustrations then he by all means, he would do it as often as time allowed.

When Gerard had attended high school... well, let's just say that he didn't enjoy it. At all. The only good thing he got out of high school was Tess, and now he was beginning to question if that was actually a good thing or not. Ever since his job at the school, their relationship had been rocky, to say the least. Rent was three months past due, the phone company disconnected their phone lines, and their debt continued to pile up, trapping them in a stressful situation that allowed for no love. Love had been banished from between the two for quite some time now. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they had drifted apart.

Tess didn't have her dream of the perfect life yet, and Gerard was the one holding her back. Or at least, that's how she looked at their situation. He did everything to keep her satisfied: getting a second job at a cafe, buying her that necklace he'd seen her looking at in a magazine. He really did try to keep her even though he wasn't really sure if she was what he wanted. Tess had been with him for longer than anyone else; she was all he knew.

That's why he stayed with her, and together they lived in the dingy one bedroom apartment on the third floor of building 23.

It was a Monday. Gerard's least favorite day of the week. Well, I guess that's the same for just about everyone, but he especially hated Mondays because it marked the start of another boring week at his boring job that controlled his boring life.

The deafening beep of the alarm clock on his bedside table rang in his ear, making his bloodshot eyes shoot open. The sound filled the room for a few seconds until he reluctantly turned over and pushed the off button. A groan came from the other side of the bed where Tess was just getting up.

"Good morning babe." Gerard said kindly as he removed the covers from his body and planted his bare feet on the dirty wooden floors of their bedroom.

"Morning." Tess muttered with a low voice. She wasn't much a morning person, but Gerard had noticed that more and more, it seemed like she wasn't much of a person at all. Everything had become a schedule for her. Get up. Make a bagel. Go to nursing school. Come home. Eat dinner. Go to sleep. Everyday. It was a never ending cycle that Gerard wasn't heavily involved in. They didn't spend much time together; they had become more like roommates than a couple.

Hell, Gerard couldn't even remember the last time that they had hugged. It was at least two weeks ago. He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment realizing just how far from each other they had drifted. Two weeks without even hugging... _Two weeks_.

He got out of bed and slipped off his clothes to take a quick shower. No time to think about the fact that he hadn't as much as touched his girlfriend in over two weeks. He was in and out, then dressed in his outfit for work in a matter of minutes. The same routine as always, just a different day. Gerard walked out into the kitchen to find Tess in her usual spot; leaned over on the counter eating her measly breakfast.

"Did you pay the electric bill?" Tess's voice was hard and emotionless as Gerard poured himself a cup of coffee.

"No, I'll do that today..." he replied feeling guilty for not doing it on time. Bills were normally the source of all their petty arguments.

"It was due yesterday, Gerard. I reminded you twice and even sent you an email about it."

"Well I don't get paid until today, so now i'll be able to pay it. I've got it handled."

Tess shook her head and sighed. "I'm going to work. I won't be home until later tonight. Bye."

Gerard thought about hugging her as she walked past him, but decided not to. She was in a bad mood... He could tell by the way that she was bending her eye brows together ever so slightly. Hugging would just make her more upset about whatever was bothering her. The root of all her problems was Gerard, and he was well aware of that. It's why he constantly tried to change himself for her. Sacrificing his happiness for the chance to make Tess momentarily happy is what he did every chance he got. It normally blew up in his face somehow, but he didn't stop trying.

The front door closed shut, and Gerard followed out a few minutes later with his briefcase and car keys in hand. His car was nothing special, but he actually quite liked it. The piece of junk was his first car, and it reminded him of when he was happier with life in college. It broke down from time to time, but for the most part, it got him where he needed to go, and that was all that mattered to Gerard. He climbed in, and the car roared to life as he made his two minute drive to the high school. The parking lot was just beginning to fill with his fellow teachers and a few students.

It was cold out, so he threw on his jacket while he fiddled with the lock on the outside of the car door. He hated this weather. It was always either blowing harsh winds with cold temperatures, or humid with nothing more than a breeze. Maybe that's why he hated living in Jersey so much. Not to mention, the sky was always the same shade of dull gray.

By the time he walked inside, the halls were already filling up with students. He hated all the noise they created. Too much talking, laughing, the closing of lockers... His class room was on the second floor, and the thin wooden door is what separated him from the ruckus out in the halls. Unfortunately for Gerard, once the bell rang, his classroom was taken over by twenty three teenagers that came to school not to learn, but to socialize. There were a few exceptions though; the one nerdy kid that sat in the front row of desks, and the girl who was a suck up and raised her hand high at each question. Other than those two, the rest of the kids were disrespectful to their teacher.

Gerard wasn't much older than his own students, so it was somewhat expected that he didn't appear to be an authority figure. He was alright with that; if the kids didn't want to learn, then they wouldn't. He'd given up on disciplining at the start of the school year. Now it was the start of the second semester. Halfway done with the year, but he didn't even want to fathom what he would have to do in the summer for an extra job. That was too far in the future for him to think about.

The second bell rang, signaling the beginning of first period. The students continued to chatter, so Gerard cleared his voice to get their attention.

"Class. Please pull out your textbooks and turn to page..." he glanced down to the lesson plans on his desk for the page number. "Page 674. We'll be reading Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet for the next few weeks. Is anyone familiar with other works by Shakespeare?"

"Isn't he the one that talks all fancy and shit?" Someones voice called out from the back of the class room. Gerard sighed and rolled his eyes. Andrew. He was always the one to have a smartass comment reserved for Gerard. He was about to say something witty back, but there was a knock at the classroom door.

Through the window he could see one of the counselors of the school; the one that was always smiling. No matter the situation, there was guaranteed to be a smile across the chubby old lady's face. How was she so happy all the time? Gerard was jealous of her happiness even though he would never want to smile that much. She took her peppiness to a whole other level. She waved as he opened the door to find a boy standing behind her. His arms were folded across his chest, showing that he did not want to be there.

"Well Hello Mr.Way. It seems that you have a new student in you class!" she exclaimed. Gerard gave her a fake smile and nodded his head. "This is- here why don't you introduce yourself to Mr.Way." she said, directing her attention to the boy. His hazel eyes switched between the counselor and Gerard until he spoke.

"Frank."

"Uhm. Okay Frank. I'm Ger- I mean, Mr.Way...Why don't you come in the class, and we'll find you a desk to sit at."

Great. Another student to sit at the back of the class and laugh and make jokes. Gerard could tell by the sight of the boy that he was no straight 'A' student. Frank had hair almost as dark as Gerard's, but it was shaved at the sides leaving a trail of black to fall down the middle and swirl to a curve at his cheek. The shaved sides of his head were bleached light blond and cut short.Frank's black tee-shirt didn't succeed in covering up the tattoos that were spotted up and down his left arm. No, this was definitely not a straight 'A' student.

The boy wordlessly walked to a desk in the front row and took a seat next to the girl that aways had to raise her hand. Gerard had expected him to go to the back where the others of his 'kind' were seated, but then again, he was obviously a new student and probably didn't know anyone just yet.

Gerard sat back in his desk and collected his thoughts. He could see the class inspecting their new pupil. He felt somewhat bad for Frank. Being the new kid wasn't going to be easy, especially with half the class being judgmental douche bags. Then again, maybe a teacher shouldn't be calling his students douche bags... Gerard shook his head clear of those thoughts and introduced Frank to the class.

"We have a new student, class. Mr. uh, what's you're name again?" Gerard directed at Frank. He did remember his name, but he wanted to hear him talk again. Frank seemed to be the quiet reserved type, so it was likely that Gerard wouldn't be hearing his voice too often.

With his arms still crossed in front of his chest, Frank sat in his desk, feet sprawled out in front of him, not saying a word back. His face was carved into a hard expression that showed nothing but disinterest and indifference. Gerard was intimidated by the boy's response to his question. He had only asked for him to say his name to the class, yet Frank refused to answer and continued to stare directly at Gerard, eyes slightly narrowed. Gerard shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Okay... so Frank wasn't a big talker... Gerard could handle that.

"Frank... was it?" He said as Frank finally, after what seemed like the longest few moments of Gerard's life, turned his gaze down to the text book on the corner of his desk. The class forgot about the new student as they all obediently flipped to the page that Romeo and Juliet started on.

All of a sudden Frank looked out of place as he glanced around at the room to see the rest of the class reading to themselves as he awkwardly opened the textbook, wondering which page the assignment was on. Gerard noticed Frank's confusion and leaned over his wide teacher desk to whisper to Frank who's desk was but a foot away from his own.

"It's on Page 674."

Frank's eyes traveled upwards to meet Gerard's for only a split second until he looked back down to focus on flipping to the page. Gerard felt a strange since of accomplishment. He couldn't exactly figure out why, but seeing the boy that appeared so tough, in a vulnerable situation, even if it was only for a moment, reminded him that he was a teacher. He was the boss of all these kids, and he did have control. Okay, well maybe he didn't. Gerard just tried his best to find little things that would get him through the day.

The class was not their normal selves; they actually quietly read without any distractions. The bell rang, dismissing them to second period. Gerard stood up and had to raise his voice over the sound of everyone collecting their things.

"Your only homework is to read all of scene one by tomorrow. There will be a quiz over it, so don't slack off." No one seemed to be paying attention except for of course the girl who always raised her hand. Maybe Gerard should actually try to start remembering his students names... But then again, he didn't have space for useless information like that. Everyone filed out of the room, except for Frank who remained seated.

Gerard gave him a weird look, but his head was tilted downward. Was he asleep? No, he could see his eyes blinking.

"Erm, Frank? The bell rang." Gerard spotted what Frank was looking at. His class schedule was laid on top of his desk, and Frank was giving it a confused look. "Do you know what class you have next?"

Frank lifted his head and shook it as he studied Gerard's expression. The feeling of being in charge banished from Gerard, and out of no where he felt nervous. He couldn't quite figure out why though. Maybe it was the way that Frank's eyes pierced Gerard's. Or maybe it was the tattoos that intimidated Gerard. Or maybe even his hair... come to think of it, all of Frank intimidated Gerard. Gerard rose from his desk and leaned over Frank's paper.

"You've got Math with Mrs. Stewart. Her class is across the hall. I can take you if-."

"No thanks, I'm fine." Frank quickly scooped up his textbook and trudged out of the classroom, leaving Gerard to wonder why he felt to inferior to the new short, punk kid. Why was he so... quiet? And why was Gerard so intimidated by him? He didn't have time to ponder on those questions, for his classroom soon filled up with the next group of students.

Finally, lunch time arrived. The classroom was _finally_ quiet again; just the way he liked it. The perfect time for him to write. He had been working on a novel recently. The plot was still pretty loose, but he was actually somewhat excited to write this. Maybe, just maybe, it could get published if he worked at it.

The story was something he had dreamt about one night after he had drank a little too much which was beginning to happen more often, but that's another story. His dream that night was vivid, really vivid. Normally, you'd forget a dream, but this one... this one really stuck with Gerard. He couldn't get it out of his mind, so he did what he always did. He wrote about it.

In his dream, he had died. In most dreams he did, but this one was different. He was still alive... just not entirely... during the day he was stuck in some sort of second dimension that was right in between life and death. In his dream, he could still walk, talk, and eat like he normally did, he even looked just like himself, but the only difference was that no one noticed him. It was like he was invisible to everyone. He couldn't touch people; his hand would pass right through them. Then at night for one hour only, he was alive again, but would go right back to that little niche between life and death when the clock struck three o'clock in the morning. Deep in his drunken sleep, Gerard discovered that the only way he would be able to cross over to the dead was if he achieved his one goal in life. In the short hour he was allotted some time alive, he was expected to work towards achieving his life goal. Once he did, he would be able to finally rest in peace. He was no ghost, Gerard wasn't too sure what he would call the entity that he was in that dream, but it interested him no end.

Being a writer, it gave him the inspiration that he had been lacking for a while to try one last time at getting published. His dream was the perfect plot for a book, so he immediately began drafting out the story. Maybe this was his chance to get out of his boring teaching job, pay some bills, and maybe, just maybe, some money would mend his relationship with Tess. That's what he really hoped for. Seeing her happy would make him happy. It's was as simple as that.

He was writing for a few minutes, scribbling away at his notebook, when there was a knock on the classroom door. Gerard was focused deep in his writing so much that when the knock echoed throughout the classroom he jumped in his seat and shot his head around to face the door. Through the small side window he caught sight of an arm covered with ink. A million thoughts passed within his mind as he waved his hand as a motion to open the door.

Frank poked his head through the door reluctantly, and then the boy walked straight to the desk he had sat at earlier in the day. Gerard was utterly confused."Shouldn't you be at lunch?"

There was a loud thump as Frank sat his body into the chair then looked up to face Gerard. Frank no longer had an expression like stone; a glint of light reflected off of his lip ring when his lip twitched ever so slightly. He looked... defeated, beaten, and broken . It seemed that his tough-guy shell had been shattered.

"Is everyone at this school a douche bag?" Frank's voice was deep, but his face told a different story. Gerard didn't know how to respond. Students didn't normally confide in him with questions along those lines... then again, it was a good question.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, even though he had a pretty good idea of why he was asking him that. The blood running from Frank's nose hadn't been noticeable at first, but now Gerard could see it. "Did you get in a fight?"

The boy scrunched his face up, and casually wiped the blood running from his nose off on his shoulder as if it happened to him all the time. "Some douche decided to shove my lunch in the trash." he stated indifferently, but there was a hint of anger in his tone, and Gerard took note of it.

"So, why didn't you go to the nurse?"

"I did, but she was a douche too. So I came here." Frank scratched the side of his head and avoided looking at Gerard.

"I get the feeling that you like using the word douche." Gerard chuckled. The corner of Frank's lips curved up just a fraction of an inch, and Gerard watched as his face lightened. "Hey, don't be a douche about it." he smiled. Gerard was surprised at the sudden sarcasm; he hadn't expected to hear Frank talk, let alone hear him joke around. He let out a laugh and shook his head.

"So, by you coming in here... does that mean I'm not a douche?"

Frank smiled and wiped off some more of the blood that was still seeping from his nose. "I never said that. You just seem the least douchey from what I've seen."

Gerard couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so he just nodded his head, and then he turned his attention to Frank's bleeding nose. "You really should go to the nurse..." he suggested.

"Nah, I'm alright."

The room became silent, and Gerard didn't know what to say. He wasn't good at carrying out conversations... he was awkwardly friendly yet so very shy. He was like a living oxymoron.

"So... did you just move here?" Gerard's voice cracked in the middle of his question, and he saw Frank smirk from under his bang. Why did he feel so small when Frank was around? It was like the boy drained him of all of his meager supply of confidence.

"Parents got divorced, so I moved with my mom here to Jersey, but we didn't move from that far." Frank brushed his bang behind his ear and slightly shrugged his shoulders as he spoke.

Gerard closed his writing notebook and bit the inside of his cheek like he always did as he scooted his chair in. "Oh. Well, how do you like the school so far?"

Frank rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest like he had before. "What do you think?" he scoffed. Gerard was about to laugh, but the bell signifying the end of lunch rang.

Frank wiped his nose one last time and tilted his head to the side. "Well, thanks for not being a douche like everyone else." Frank smiled to Gerard as he got up and walked out as quickly as he had come.

Gerard slumped back into his chair and ran a hand through his thick black hair. Well... he certainly hadn't expected to talk to Frank... in fact, he never thought of ever talking to a student like he just had. Most kids were too annoying for Gerard to hold a conversation with. Frank was... different. Not entirely; he was still an immature highschooler, just not... not a 'douche' like the rest of them. He smiled at the word douche again.

Okay, maybe Gerard wasn't as mature as he thought either.

The classroom filled with yet another set of students, and Gerard continued his long day of teaching the same lesson over and over until finally, the last bell of the day rang, and he was free to go home. He packed everything up in his briefcase, and waited for the bulk of the hallway traffic to disperse until he walked to his car, notebook in hand. He hadn't gotten to write as much like he had planned on doing today, but he'd talked to Frank which wasn't a bad alternative. It was rare for Gerard to talk to anyone at the school. He habitually kept to himself, avoiding any human contact that wasn't absolutely necessary. This was because, well... I mean, take the counselor as an example. Far too happy for Gerard to handle. People like that just got under his skin. There was no way someone could be that happy. It just wasn't possible, but maybe Gerard just didn't want to admit that he was jealous of her endless supply of happiness. Why couldn't he be like that? Smiling all day long would be a nice change from the tired look he carried about with him 24/7.

His mind was swarming with the events that had happened today, it wasn't much, but at least today had been a little different than the usual. As Gerard sped home, he remembered that Tess said she wouldn't be home until later. She normally got home an hour before Gerard... He couldn't help but wonder why she had to stay at school late. Maybe she had to go to training at the hospital again, but how would he know? Tess no longer told him much at all. They were living in their own little worlds that from time to time, crossed paths, but just momentarily.

Gerard arrived at their apartments and climbed the stairs to the very top floor. All his actions were mindless as he unlocked the door, set his coat down, changed into something more comfortable, and lastly, sat himself down at the kitchen table to face the towering tower of unpaid bills that were stacked in front of him; a constant reminder of their rocky financial situation. So many bills... so little money...

He opened up the laptop, and logged into his bank account to pay the electric bill as Tess had demanded. He opened up the bank page and stared at it in disbelief for a moment. Fuck. All he had was forty seven dollars to his name. Not enough to pay for a single bill, and possibly, not even enough to pay for groceries. That's fucking great. Just what he needed right now. He leaned down to hold his head in his hands. Now what? Tess would be pissed, and if he didn't get paid soon, they would be living without electricity which wouldn't help their situation. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Gerard fell back into his chair and clutched his forehead, something he always did when he was stressed out. There was nothing he could do anymore.

"Money doesn't just fall out of the sky." He could almost hear his mom saying it to him like when he was living back at home. "Although it would be really nice if it did" He muttered aloud, mocking the same phrase he'd heard whenever he used to ask to borrow money from her.

He slammed the laptop closed out of anger, and he collapsed into the living room couch to flip through the television channels. The only thing that would be able to get his mind off of bills was meaningless reality shows that ended up only making him feel worse.

He sat there on the stiff, old couch that had once been his grandmothers; she passed away a few years ago, and she had left the couch to Gerard. He never knew why; it was nothing special, but it reminded him of his grandmother none the less. It was his treasured couch that he couldn't quite decide if he hated or loved. Tess had always voiced her opinion about the couch, for she wasn't one much for antiques. It just wasn't her 'style', as she had said countless times, but they never bothered to buy another one because it wasn't exactly at the top of their list of necessities. First was the rent, then tuition for Tess to attend nursing school, then bills, and if they happened to have a little extra, they'd get some groceries.

Gerard's younger brother, Mikey, had gotten a giant dresser from their grandmother that he kept in his bedroom. The two brothers kept what they could because it somehow kept them connected in a way. Mikey didn't come over very often, although he only lived a few miles away in another block of apartments. He worked at a comic book store not too far from the high school. They used to go to the same shop together when they were younger, in fact, they did everything together, but now everything had changed- not all at once; it happened gradually over the years, but eventually the two brothers drifted apart from one another. Mikey had his life, and Gerard had his. The only time they saw each other was at the monthly dinner that their mother made everyone be present at. Mikey and his girlfriend, uh what was her name? Gerard wasn't good with names... anyways, Gerard was forced to bring along Tess, who would put on her happy mask to converse with Gerard's mother, but Gerard and Mikey went their separate ways until the next family gathering. That was just the way it worked with the Way brothers, and neither of them were complaining.

He did miss Mikey sometimes, but not the Mikey he knew now. Gerard much prefered the old Mikey; the one that would stay up all night with him just talking about comics or whatever happened to be the brothers' facination at the moment. _That_ was the Mikey he missed. Now his younger brother was different... Mikey changed after high school. He was more... reclusive. He didn't get out much, and Gerard was fairly sure that Mikey wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Maybe Gerard was just being over sensitive, but Mikey just sort of stopped talking to him over the years, so Gerard decied to keep to himself as well. Neither of the brothers knew why they drifted apart, but they had grown used to it, and now it was just another problem to haunt Gerard at night.

Gerard suffered through an entire episode of the Jersey Shore, his eyes glued to the TV as his mind was clouded over by the momentary distraction from life. He finally got sick of the unneeded drama, and switched the TV off. He could only take so much of things like that, so he decided to pull out his notebook and write a bit more.

Remembering his lunch break from earlier reminded him of Frank. He sat there, still on the couch, lost in his thoughts about the new kid for a while, until he turned his attention back to his book. He realized that the book needed another character; one that would befriend the main character before he slips away into the life and death situation. Then a thought crossed his mind. Frank was... interesting... he could serve as the character? Maybe... Gerard pondered it for a while, and came to the conclusion that Frank would be perfect for the character. He was different and mysterious; the perfect role to deepen the plot of his dream novel.

He began writing away, trying his best to capture Frank's aura with his words. It wasn't easy, for Gerard wasn't entirely familiar with Frank himself, but that only made the character in his book seem even more profound. Gerard was quite happy with his writing so far, so he didn't stop, even when the sunlight from behind the curtains vanished and turned into a light glow from the moon. He just flipped on the lamp beside him, and continued to scribble down paragraph after paragraph.

It was just reaching midnight when Gerard realized the time. Shouldn't Tess be home by now? She never stayed at the hospital this late. He set his notebook down and got up to get the phone and call to check on her, but then he heard keys fumbling outside of the front door. Tess walked in a moment later, looking worn out and tired as if she had been a work all day long. "Hey, you're home late..." Gerard's voice was soft and quiet, but Tess was already back to her moody self.

"Gerard, I'm not in the mood for talking to you right now."

Well... okay. That's a nice way to greet your boyfriend. Gerard, in a moments decision, wrapped his arms tightly around Tess in a hug. He was tired of fighting with her; it was a never ending cycle that he hoped could be stopped with a little sigh of affection. Tess's arms fell limply to his side; a pitiful attempt at a hug, but a hug none the less. He breathed in the scent of her hair, but then something stopped him. It was sort of like the smell of perfume, but just a little off. No, it didn't smell like roses or orchids, it was a more masculine scent. Definitely not his own, this was different. Cologne? Why would Tess be wearing cologne? He pulled back and gave her a confused face as his nose scrunched up.

"You smell different. Like... cologne."

Tess's eyes darted around, avoiding Gerard's. "Oh.. probably from- uh, I don't know." Gerard had rarely seen her like this. She was nervous, and he could just make out a hint of guilt in her eyes. That's when it hit him. She comes home late, smelling like cologne...

"You're cheating on me aren't you?" His smile faded and was replaced by an emotionless face.

"Gerard..." she paused. "I-I'm sorry." Her voice shook and she looked down at the ground as she spoke. "P-Please. Just hear me out, baby." Tears were beginning to drip down Tess's cheeks.

"No!" Gerard roared. "Don't fucking call me 'baby'. You cheat on me and expect me to-." He suddenly ran out of things to say, and he had no desire for talking to Tess in that moment. He needed to get out of there to escape the sudden cloud of stress that had just accumulated above him. 

Gerard returned to his calm state, and he slowly backed away from her, picked up his briefcase, his jacket, and most importantly, his notebook. Then he left.

He left her there, muttering incoherent scolds to herself while sobbing as he walked out the door. Gerard knew that it was bound to happen sometime, but he was still in shock. So she could love another man, but barely succeed in hugging him back. Then she had the nerve to come home as if nothing had happened. Gerard wanted desperately to break out in tears, but he held it in for just a while longer. He climbed into his car, leaving the apartment behind as he headed to the one place where he could forget about all of this. The bar. It took him only a few minutes to get there, and once he was seated on the bar stool, the drinks never stopped coming his way. In the matter of half an hour, he was slumped over in booth at the back of the bar, his hand clutched around one of the many empty shot glasses that sat in front of him, and his vision slowly faded to black. The last thing he remembers clearly is the noise his head made as it thumped down onto the wooden table. He got his mind off of Tess.

Well, for now at least.


	2. One Thought

> _"With blood, and each sate sullenly apart_
> 
> _Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;_
> 
> _All earth was but **one thought** —and that was death."_
> 
> _-Darkness-Lord Byron_

 

When Gerard finally woke, he was no longer in the bar which he faintly rememberd visiting the night before. His eyes fluttered open, and he felt a light breeze flow across his face. Looking up, his eyes squinted at the grey sky which hung over him. He was just outside the bar, head leaned on the brick wall, feet laid out in front of him. His briefcase was neatly set to his right, and it looked extremely out of place against the dirty, grimy ground of the tight alley way in which he was sitting in. All of a sudden his head felt as if it was being crushed together, and a soreness rose up his spine from sleeping in a sitting position all night. The hangover had made it's appearance. Gerard took a deep breath in, attempting to gather up some pain tolerance which he would need a lot of if he planned to ride out the hangover that he had earned fair and square.

People on the sidewalks walked past him, not bothering to take note of the helpless, pitiful, man who was quite down on his luck at the time. Not one person even as much as glanced in his direction. It made him angry for a moment that not even one person would take the time to help him, but then again, Gerard realized that he probably wouldn't help a drunk English teacher leaned on the wall of a bar either. It was just the way society worked: everyone kept to themselves, only worrying about their own problems and hardships. A woman in her expesive fur coat was no better than the man with all his last belongings in a shopping cart, yet it seemed that Gerard was the only one who could grasp that concept. 

For a split second, he contemplated whether or not he was dreaming the same dream that he had been writing about; the one where he was stuck as a lifeless, invisible man, but no, he couldn't be because he specifically remembered his dream from his drunken sleep. Maybe drinking didn't effect one's abillity to recall dreams the same way it could wipe out his memories of an entire night at the bar.

In his dream last night, a little boy had been able to see him when no one else was able to. The boy was like Gerard, in that he was stuck between life and death. Gerard couldn't quite call to mind the rest of what had happened in his dream, something to do with a hand... but none of the images were coming in clear. So, he wasn't dreaming, that was for sure. Normally he would've tried to recall the events of his dream, so he could incorporate them into his book, but his head was throbbing, and he was in no mood for thinking.

He ran a hand through his now greasy hair, and pulled his jacket sleeve up to examine the watch on his arm. It was already seven in the morning. His first class started at seven thirty... Should he even make an effort to go to work today? Well, what else would he do all day? Mope around with a saddened face, thinking about Tess and what he did wrong to make her cheat on him... Or go to school and have to face the overly estatic counselor that would only make him visualize just how unhappy he really was.

After ruminating the subject for a few minutes, his head still leaning on the brick wall, he decided to pick his body up off the ground and try to make it to work on time. Not necessarily because he wanted to go to work, but mainly for the reason that Frank would be there. It was strange for Gerard to want to go to school just because of a student, but yesterday, Frank had interested him. No one ever talked to Gerard, especially students, so he figured if anything was going to make him fell the least bit better, it would be talking to someone. Frank was certainly the only 'someone' that Gerard imagine talking to.

Gerard winced as he stood up, using the wall to help him with the task. There was a loud grumble in the pit of his stomach, then he felt warm saliva fill the inside of his cheeks. That was always the warning sign for throw up... Hurridly, he drooped over and spilled out his insides in the middle of the alley. A woman walking by on the sidewalk gasped and made a disgusted face at Gerard. Well, in her defence, Gerard was a bit disgusting; a line of spit hanging from his bottom lip as he lifted his head up slowly. His face scrunched up in disgust at the sickening taste now present in his mouth. Well, at least he got all of that out of him...

The woman remined him of Tess. Her long brown hair, and the woman's pursed lips matched Tess's almost exactly. He desperatly did not want to think of Tess anymore. She was a whore. Okay, now he was just getting his anger out, but it helped a little.

He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, and stumbled over to pick up his briefcase. Digging through it's contents, he found that everything was still there; his notebook sitting on top of his lesson plans for the day. Gerard reluctantly found his car and jammed the keys into the ignition. He was going to be late, but at least he was going to show up to work.

Traffic was minimal, and he parked in his usual spot, right under a tree for shade even though it seemed as if the sun never came out. Or maybe that was just in his mind...

By the time he walked through the side door of the school his watch read 7:45. Okay, so he was just a little late. Hopefully his first period students hadn't torn the classroom apart yet, and he would be able to restore peace. Surely they were going crazy with out a teacher to watch after them. As he walked down the empty halls to his classroom, he realized that he wasn't exactly dressed for work. He was wearing his favorite Iron Maiden tee shirt that he had worn at least a thousand times, just never to work because well, it's work. His ratty cargo shorts didn't sharpen his look either, but again, at least he had showed up.

As he turned the door knob on his classroom door, he was apprehensive of what he would find on the other side. By now the students would've had enough time to gather up a small army and attack him with smartass, sarcastic comments about his tardiness. The situation was actually quite plausible considering half the class was... _douche bags_ , as stated by Frank. He cautiously stepped into the room to find that there were a few kids who where out of their desk, but all in all, everyone was in control. No armies were being formed against him. Not today at least.

Gerard's eyes immediatly focused on Frank's desk where the boy sat just as he had yesterday. Frank arched his eyesbrow up as Gerard slumped back into the chair behind his desk. He popped open his suitcase and pulled out the quizzes over scene one of Romeo and Juliet. The girl who always raised her hand- Rebecca (He was getting better at names) stood up and smiled.

"I'll pass those out for you if you want, Mr.Way." Her voice was bright and cheerful. He was in no mood for the girl's lightened attitude, but he did his best to conceal his tired emotions.

Gerard let out an exasperated sigh and did his best to give her a fake smile back. She was another great example of the type of people with too much happiness that just really got on Gerard's nerves, but he handed her the stack of quizzes because well, his hangover wouldn't allow him the energy to walk up and down the rows of desks.

"Okay class, find your seats please. Sorry, I am a bit late, but we need to get started on the quiz now. I hope everyone read the first scene that I assigned." A few grumbles came from the back of the room.

The class was quiet as they all worked on the quiz. Gerard sat in his chair, leaned over the desk with his head in his hands. He felt utterly miserable in that moment. He was pretty sure that he no longer had a girlfriend, and then what? Was he going to have to move out of his apartment? Or would Tess be the one to move out? In a way, he hoped it would be the first option. for Gerard wanted a new start of sorts. New apartment. New job. New outlook on life. New... everything. That's what he really hoped for.

After only about ten minutes, there was the sound of a chair being scooted out from under the desk. Gerard lifted his head and watched as Frank got up and set his completed quiz in the wire tray that was designated for turning things in. A few head around the class room shot up, surprised that someone had already finished the quiz. Gerard was a bit surprised too; the quiz was pretty long, but then again he hadn't expected Frank to be the brightest student in the first place. He felt bad for him just for a moment, for he didn't want to have to give the boy a bad grade.

Gerard glanced at Frank who was back in his seat. Frank happened to also be staring at Gerard at the same time; he quickly adverted his gaze to the textbook on his desk to continue reading Romeo and Juliet, but not without glimpsing up to his teacher one last time. Gerard leaned over and grabbed the quiz from the tray; he was curious as to what kind of grade Frank would get. Not that he really cared, but then again, maybe he did, and he just didn't want to admit it to himself...

He pulled his favorite red grading pen from the cup of pens and pencils on his desk, and he struggled to take off the cap. It seemed stuck, and kept slipping through his hands as he tugged at the cap to come off. He was _not_ in the mood for this. His head was pounding, and the bright, white lights of the classroom gave him even more of a headache. Gerard had plenty of other red pens that he could use, but he was determined to get this one because if he was going to achieve anything that day, he at the least had to be able to take the cap off of a pen. He was normally a persistent fellow, and mixing in his easily aggravated state, the cap was going to have to come off. His ego depended on it; not that he had much of an ego in the first place. It was primarily in his head.

Still grappling with the stupid, piece of shit cap, Gerard looked up to see Frank smirking at his strife with the pen which only made him feel tiny once again. Why did Frank make him feel that way? It was like all his confidence was sucked down a drain when Frank as much as glanced at him, but now Frank had a full on smile stretched wide across his soft face which, for whatever reason, made Gerard even more determined to get the fucking cap off of the pen. Finally, after much tugging and twisting, the cap came loose, and Gerard triumphed in all his glory. Now that he looks back on that moment, he realizes just how lame that sounds, but believe me, at the time, Gerard was lost in his achievement. Stupid fucking pen couldn't even beat tired, broken-hearted, hungover Gerard.

Quite satisfied with himself, he licked the tip of his finger and grabbed the corner of Frank's quiz. He was prepared to use a lot of the ink, for he didn't have very high expectations for Frank's Shakespearean decifering skills, and the fact that Frank had been amused by Gerard's struggle with the pen didn't persuade him to go easy on the grading. Just by looking at the boy, he was sure the grade wouldn't be over a D. Maybe that would put the power back in his hands, but then again, does Frank even realize how small Gerard feels in his gaze?

Carefully and precisely, Gerard ran his eyes through each question on Frank's quiz. Number one: correct. Well alrighty then. Good for Frank; he got one right, but just wait until he finishes grading the whole quiz because surely he's going to miss a lot- oh, number two was also correct. Okay, so maybe he'll get a C. Gerard frowned at each answer. They were all correct. _Each and every single one of them_. Of course, like always, Gerard's mind jumped to conclusions like: he copied off of someone else or he's got the answers written on his hand. Yeah, that had to be it. There was no way that the little punk with arms covered in tattoos just got an A plus on a quiz over the notoriously confusing Romeo and Juliet, but maybe Gerard didn't know Frank as well as he thought he did. You can't judge a book by it's cover, and being an English teacher, Gerard should've known that.

He reluctantly put an A with a little plus sign to the side of it on the top of Frank's quiz, and placed it back in the tray while trying not to show his confusion. So Frank wasn't exactly who he thought. He got good grades. Probably got lots of girls too, considering he looked like the bad ass rebel type, which girls normally took a liking to. Yeah, so in conclusion, Frank was everything Gerard had ever wanted to be in high school; well, minus all the tattoos because needles just weren't his thing. He was jealous of Frank, which he really, really hated to accept. No wonder Gerard felt so insignificant compared him. Frank was perfect, in a sort of imperfect way. Perfect grades. Perfect looks. Maybe a not so perfect image, but Frank was still... perfect.

Gerard's thoughts were interrupted by a girl from the back of the class getting up to turn in her quiz. She was one of those people who always had a weird look on their face. Like she had just tasted something unimaginably sour. Come to think of it, the girl kind of reminded him of Tess. The way she refused to smile, and the way she tried her best not to look in Gerard's eyes as she handed in her quiz. The thought of Tess once again sent Gerard spiraling back down into the pits of what he thought may be depression. He really hated labeling his mental state as depressed, but that's what his doctor had told him about a month ago, and that's why he had a little bottle of pills that sat in the bathroom cupboard. He had been depressed before Tess cheated on him. What did that make him now?

A few more people came up to turn in their quizzes, but eventually Gerard's thoughts got so -he wasn't going to say depressing- saddening seemed to fit better. His thoughts got so _saddening_ that he laid his head down on the cold metal of his desk. The temperature stung his cheek for a moment, but then it felt nice and even relieved his headache a bit. He closed his eyes gingerly as he tried to keep out the mental images of Tess sleeping with another man. Unfortunately, a vision of her on her knees in front of a tall man flashed in his mind, and Gerard jetted his head up to shake the picture away.

From the first row of desks, Frank gave him a confused look, but then went back to reading. Gerard hoped Frank would come by his classroom again today. Talking to him might've help lift his spirits, even if he didn't tell Frank about Tess which he didn't plan to. Gerard wasn't normally one to express his feelings verbally, that was what made him such an exceptional writer. Everything he didn't say aloud was only magnified in the words that he formulated on paper.

The bell announcing the end of class echoed through the classroom, and there were a few grunts and sighs from the students who hadn't finished the quiz on time. Everyone filed out of the class room; Frank smiled at Gerard as he walked past his teacher's desk which made Gerard snap out of his... _saddened_ state. He even smiled back, but the little ounce of joy Frank had given him soon ran out.

It was strange how a simple look from Frank could change his mood entirely, but it didn't last long. Once Frank had exited the classroom and the next set of students took their seats, more images of Tess with a man other than himself blazed thorough his mind, settling in the back of his head as a constant reminder that she had cheated on him.

The next few classes were quiet and boring, much like they always were. Then finally came the time Gerard had been looking forward too. His lunch break. He hadn't realized just how much he wanted to talk to Frank until he heard a familiar knock on the classroom door. This time, the boy didn't wait for Gerard to let him in. The door opened and Frank quickly found his desk again.

"Hey." Frank breathed out, raising his eyes up to meet Gerard's. Gerard didn't want to appear too overjoyed at Frank's presence, so he nodded his head upward and gave him a half smile.

"Hey."

"You alright?" A wave of concern came over Frank's face as he asked the simple question. Yet, for Gerard, it wasn't so simple to answer. He was not okay. His girlfriend had cheated on him, and his headache had just made a sudden reappearance.

"Yeah." He lied, trying to keep an indifferent look about him. Frank saw through it and tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

"You normally wear Iron Maiden shirts to your job?" His right eyebrow arched up, and a little smirk took over the boy's face. Gerard glanced down to his shirt and shook his head. 

"I just... had a long night that's all."

Frank didn't seem to be satisfied with the answer, and he leaned forward on his arms that were pressed against his desk. "So you're not alright?"

"Well...uh... I-I'm fine."

"No you're not." Frank said matter of factly. "I can tell. Don't bullshit me." Then his face turned soft. "You don't have to tell me. I mean, I get that."

Gerard was a little surprised that Frank cared so much, but he knew that curiosity was a powerful feeling. "It's just... My girlfriend cheated on me last night, and I-..." He couldn't believe he was telling one of his students about his personal problems, but Frank was leaning closer and closer on his arms. Gerard couldn't _not_ tell him now. He'd already told him too much. "I've got a fuckin' hangover and I have no idea what's going to happen with us now."

Frank's face stayed in the same soft expression and he took a moment to respond. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine... I'll be fine." Gerard said trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Frank. The thoughts of Tess started creeping back into his mind, so he quickly tried his best at changing the subject. "You got a one hundred on your quiz today." He stated with an unintended awkward tone to his voice.

The side of Frank's lips curled up a bit, and his concerned look changed into a more playful one. "Yeah, it took you long enough to get that pen open."

Gerard chuckled to cover up his slight embarrassment. Why was he so embarrassed about not being able to take the cap off of a pen? Because it was Frank who was pointing out his flaw. Frank who had the perfect grades. Perfect personality. Perfect smile... Okay, Gerard may have been getting a little creepy thinking that. Frank's smile was nice, but he shouldn't be thinking that much about it...

"That was the pen's fault, not mine!" He smiled.

Frank shook his head in protest."Nah, I think you just don't have the upper body strength to handle a pen." He smirked. Gerard's hand whipped around to the infamous pen that was back in his pen and pencil cup. Pulling out the pen he narrowed his eyes at Frank and smiled as he tossed it to into the boy's hands.

"Well, you try it then."

Frank let out a laugh and held the pen tightly in his hands, one hand gripping the cap. He arched his eye brow up again, as he dramatically pulled the cap off with ease. Gerard leaned back in his chair and couldn't help himself from cracking up.

"Dammit!" He exclaimed. "I swear it was stuck earlier!"

"Mhm sure." Frank carried out each letter of the last word, and he even stuck his tongue out.

Gerard bit down on his lip hard as he shook his head with a playful face. At least Frank had made the dark cloud that had been hanging over his head all day disappear. It was like Frank was the sun and was managing to shine through all the fogginess in Gerard's mind. Then Gerard felt cheesy for comparing Frank to the sun, so dug his teeth harder into his bottom lip, hoping it would make him stop being so... Well he didn't know how to explain all his bizarre thoughts about his new favorite student that had a certain way of easily manipulating Gerard's mood.

Frank stood up from his chair and took a step towards Gerard's desk to set the red pen back in the pen cup, but in the process, his shoe caught on the corner of Gerard's old briefcase. The bag jutted open, and a flurry of papers along with his writing notebook slid across the bare floor at their feet. Gerard's eyes automatically flew to his notebook that laid open to a random page.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Frank muttered as he dropped to his knees and began to gather up the loose papers. Gerard wasn't worried about the papers; it was his notebook. What if Frank saw his very own name that was written in the book as he picked it up? Then what? How would Gerard go about explaining that he put Frank in his fucked up story? Before he knew it, his hand was reaching outwards to grab his notebook, but not before Frank's hand got there first.

Something happened when Gerard's hand landed on top of Frank's. There was a certain explosion of... nothing. Well...It was something, It just wasn't tangible, but Gerard could feel it in Frank's eyes as the boy instinctively pulled his hand away from the notebook. An unspoken intensity passed between them, and it scared Gerard. It scared him that the little punk from his first period was on his mind more than his cheating girlfriend. It scared him that Frank could do that to him; make him feel so vulnerable and small.

Frank shuffled the papers that were in his hands and picked himself up off the ground speachessly, eyes still locked with Gerard's. Frank had felt the 'something' that had passed between them too; he just wasn't scared of it like Gerard was. Nothing ever really scared him.

Gerard slowly leaned back up into his chair and cautiously set his notebook back down on the desk, making sure it was closed, so Frank wouldn't see his very own name scrawled on Gerard's paper. He advertised his gaze down to the desk, and noted Frank staring down to his notebook as he set the loose papers down. Suddenly Gerard felt self conscious of himself. Frank was standing in front of him, eyes locked on the book which contained the boy as a character. How would Frank react if he found out? He'd think Gerard was some creeper which Gerard was beginning to think himself. He was a creeper. Spending his lunch break talking to a seventeen year old boy from his English class. Writing about the boy in his dreamed up story. And that- whatever that feeling was when their hands had brushed each other's- made Gerard a creep. Or at least that's how he looked at it.

"What's that?" Frank's voice seemed loud in the quiet, empty classroom, even though his voice was soft, almost a whisper. Should Gerard tell him? I mean, he could just say it was a book he was writing, which wasn't a lie.

"I write in it. I've been working on a book." he answered.

"Oh. That's cool. Can I read it?"

"No." Gerard responded a little too quickly. Frank noticed his tone and backed away to settle into his seat again. "It's just... personal stuff. I don't know." Gerard muttered. Frank shook his head.

"It's alright. I know what you mean; I'm the same way."

"What do you mean?" Gerard was genuinely curious.

"I mean, like... I've got things that I never show anyone else because people would think I was psychotic if they knew what goes on in my head." Frank didn't seem the least bit embarrassed to tell that to Gerard.

"Oh. Well, what would make people think you're psychotic?" Gerard questioned. Frank's words had interested him; as if he wasn't already intrigued by the boy. Now he couldn't hold back his curiosity.

Frank chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "There's a reason I don't show anyone." he smirked.

Gerard was about to burst out with more questions, for curiosity could be his weakness at times. He stopped himself because he'd only feel like more of a creep if he kept asking. Frank didn't mind talking about whatever they were talking about, but Gerard contained himself. He told himself 'I am a teacher and Frank is my student'. That didn't really help, but the ring of the bell did.

The sound shot him out of the sky and back down into the reality that he was at school. His job. He was talking to his student, not his friend.

Frank stood up and gave him a half smile. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait, Frank. Can I ask you something?" Gerard had no idea what he was doing, but in a moment's decision, he felt he absolutely had to ask it. "Why do you come in my classroom instead of going to lunch?"

Frank wasn't expecting the question, and he rolled back on his heels slightly. Gerard saw something flash across Frank's face. Maybe it had been a blush... But nah, it was probably the sunlight pouring in through the blinds on the window, or maybe it was just a weird ray of light that had crossed his face. Either way, Frank's attitude changed to something Gerard had never seen. It was almost as if he was shy and nervous. The way that Gerard felt when the boy's hard eyes locked on his. Then again maybe his hangover was making him see things.

"I come in here 'cause... I dunno. I just would rather talk to you than have to put up with a bunch of-"

"Douchbags. I know." Gerard smirked, and Frank's normal self took back over his body. Frank grinned and shook his head as he walked to the door.

"You already know me too well." He called out over his shoulder with a smile. Then he was gone, and the smile that had been stretched across Gerard's face soon faded when his next class took their seats. With Frank no longer there talking to him, the thoughts of Tess crept back in his mind. Gerard's hangover slowly disappeared, leaving him with the harsh reality that the only girlfriend he had ever had cheated on him. Tess was all he knew. They shared their first kisses with each other in eighth grade. They lost their virginity to each other. Gerard had planned to _marry_ Tess, and she decided to go and throw all that away. All that history they had together was now rotting in the bottom of a dumpster. They were done. Gerard knew that; he wasn't going to get back together with her because, well, he just didn't want to, but that didn't take away the pain of knowing that he wasn't... He wasn't good enough for her.

He wasn't good enough for anyone; that's the conclusion he had come to. He was completely wrong of course. Gerard was a good guy. He was a little quiet at times and didn't always speak up, maybe if he had been more assertive and manly, maybe then Tess wouldn't had cheated on him. The guy he imagined her with was tall and buff. The opposite of Gerard, which only made him feel even worse about himself.

Gerard spent the rest of the day with his head leaned down on his desk. Thankfully, the students did their work without little interruption. After hours of only thinking of Tess and every little memory they had shared, the school day finally ended. Gerard knew exactly where he was going once he was in his car, barrelling down the street despite the enforced school zone speed limit. The only way he could get those sickening thoughts out of his mind was taking another trip to the bar, so that's exactly what he did.

The bar was pretty empty taking into account it was only four in the evening. Besides a group of guys who looked to be Gerard's age sitting at a booth in the corner- the one that he had passed out in last night, the place was quiet. A short, stocky bartender eyed Gerard as he sat himself on one of the leather stools.

"Back already?" He man asked as he dried off a few glasses with a towel.

"Yeah.." Gerard muttered, not remembering the man from last night, but obviously the man remembered him.

"Y'know I had to carry you outside. A drunken mess you were!" His playful laugh filled the calm bar.

"Yeah..." He repeated, not amused. He just wanted to get hammered. No conversing. Just drinking.

"Well, what can I get you?" the man asked.

"Whatever I was havin' last night sounds good right about now."

"Alrighty." The bar tender turned around to the wall lined with glass bottles that were lined with the liquid that would soon be sloshing around in Gerard's stomach, but at the time Gerard was sober which was not okay. He needed that drink fast because the thoughts wouldn't go away no matter how hard he tried.

Once the shot glass was in his hand, he downed it in one gulp, and quickly ordered another. And another. And another. And another.... And another. And anoth- okay a lot, you get it. A few hours later, Gerard's head was laid on the bar, brain filled to the brim with alcohol, mind still playing through the thoughts he ever so badly wanted to forget.

Gerard was well aware of his surroundings; the bar had gained a few more customers by the time he decided enough was enough. He got up from the bar stool to leave, and he noticed that a woman had taken the seat next to him. She wasn't looking in his direction, but from what he could see, she looked like Tess. It wasn't the real Tess; just another look-a-like. Then again, maybe it was all in his head. He'd been reminded of Tess with just about every woman he had seen that day. To say it was driving him crazy would be an understatement. He couldn't take it anymore; it was like she was everywhere. Every way he turned. There she was. Sitting at the bar. Standing next to a group of guys in the corner. Leaning over the table to order a drink. Everywhere he looked. He could see her face.

Maybe he was going crazy, or maybe it was just the alcohol, or maybe it was a combination of the two. He wanted to get out of the bar before he drank so much that he would pass out like he had last night. Gerard had almost wrapped his hand around the door handle to leave when the bar tender's voice rang out from back behind the bar.

"Hey, Buddy. You know you gotta pay your tab sometime."

Gerard turned around and tried to collect his thoughts. It's not like he had the money to pay for all the drinks; he hadn't ever even thought about the fact that he was going to have to pay the tab."I'll pay you t-tomorrow night." he finally responded. He was lying, but the bar tender seemed to believe him because it was plain to see that Gerard would be back. No one gets completely wasted two nights in a row and then decides to stop drinking. Only, Gerard had just thought of another option, not only to get out of paying for his tab, but to get out of everything...

He stumbled out to his car, but he wasn't drunk enough to think that he could drive. Gerard leaned on the side of the car frame as he ran a hand through his messy hair. His stomach was churning around inside of him, and for a moment he got light headed and thought he would throw up once again, but the feeling passed. Now what? He pondered going back to the apartment to get some of his stuff, so he could sleep in his car for awhile. Just long enough for Tess to move out because he never wanted to see her again, but going to the apartment now would mean that he would have to see her. That was out of the question for him. 

There was a thought that had been lingering in the back of his mind all day. Gerard was terrified of it, but all the drinking he had done made him take it into consideration. It was something he had never really contemplated seriously until Tess cheated on him. What if he just ended everything? He could do it. He wasn't scared of death. Besides, it's not like he had anything going for him in life. The only girlfriend he ever had cheated on him. His job was the most dreaded part of his day. And he was sure his writings would never get published. Nothing was going the way he had imagined. That's when he decided to do it. He was going to kill himself. It was final. His drunken mind was throughly convinced that it was the only way out of everything.

There comes a point in many people's life when they begin to question everything. Whether being alive is really worth all the struggling, the heartache, and the pain. Some resort to various forms of self harm to cope. It's that sting of blood seeping from a wrist that can momentarily distract one from their problems. Others can get through sadness without mutilating their own bodies, but the scars are all the same. Deep inside their mind is where the cuts or burns lie. Overtime, the scars can build up, and all at once the victim can just snap. They let all their bottled up emotions pour out.

Gerard was one of the one's who had gotten through life without much struggle. Sure he had a few problems along the way, but never enough to really get to him. Nothing that could compare to how he was feeling in that moment. He desperately wanted to die. Just to get it over with and kill himself.

He didn't allow himself to rethink the option. It was the only solution he could see to his problems, and it was _going_ to happen. 

It couldn't be that hard right? It would happen fast, and then everything could be over. No more thoughts of Tess. No more boring job. No more trying to reach his writing dream that he was sure would never be achieved. No more anything. If felt comforting to him; the fact that there was a possibility that he could end it all. He was almost excited about it. Imagine. Never having to deal with anything ever again...

Tess was no longer there to keep him sane. Frank wasn't there in that moment to make him feel at ease. And Gerard was one hundred percent sure that his life was no longer worth living. Not to mention, he was at the beginning of developing a drinking problem. Why would he have chosen to suffer through the procces of moving out, breaking up with Tess, and returning to his dreadful teaching job when he could just end it all? It was a rash decision on his part, but there was no stopping Gerard when his mind was set on something.

He was going to do it. Yeah. There was no second guessing himself. He just needed to decide _how_ it would be done. Blood wasn't his thing; it grossed him out more than it should've, so anything with that was out of the question. He didn't have a gun or rope... Then he remembered the old rail road tracks that ran through the woods about a mile away. Gerard used to go to the tracks all the time when he was in high school. There was a section of the tracks that ran high above the creek, and the trains had stopped using the line because over time, kids from the school had torn up the tracks too much. Gerard wasn't afraid of heights. He could jump. He could do it. And he was going to do it.

He decided to walk to the woods instead of driving, but not before he grabbed his journal from the car to take it with him. Leaving the writing notebook behind would be like leaving part of himself behind too, so he took it. Along the sidewalk he stammered this way and that. The section of the woods he was aiming for was just behind the high school. After a few cars honked at him for crossing the middle of the street, he made it to the front of the school. A grin stretched across his face. It didn't really seem like the time to be smiling, but he was happy. Can you blame him? It was the last time he would ever have to lay eyes on that horrid prison of a school. The smile quickly faded as he remembered Frank. Who would he talk to at lunch now? It was a senseless thing to be worrying about at that moment, but none the less, Gerard felt bad for what he was about to do. Only because of Frank, not because it was his own life he was about to take. No, just because of the boy in his English class.

Such a strange reason to feel bad about taking his own life, but in the two days that Gerard had known the boy, Frank had become important to him. He wondered if Frank would miss him. Then he thought of all his other students. He was happy that he'd never have to spend another day of his life teaching the brats. He'd never have to see Rebecca, the girl who always raised her hand, or the counsler who was always too cheery. It was quite comforting to him.

The sky had become dark. The sun had drifted down past the horizon, giving the moon a chance to take over. Clouds had formed, and Gerard's nose filled with the scent of rain. A storm was brewing just in the distance; he could hear the thunder and just make out the flash of lightning. Well, if he was going to do this, he needed to do it quickly.

Finally, he made it to the back of the school yard right on the edge of the woods. The leaves crunched under his shoes as he walked the familiar path to the abandoned train bridge. Sudden gusts of wind burst through the tall trees, sending Gerard's hair in every direction. Then he saw it. The bridge. It blended in with all the overgrown plants, Nature had taken over, making it an extension of the ground. Through the sound of the wind he could just make out the sound of the gurgling water far below the bridge. This was it. No turning back now.

He was envisioning the time that he and Mikey had come down to the bridge one day after school when they were teenagers. The brothers used to meet there to talk and just mess around together. In Gerard's head, that place held good memories, but now that was about to change forever. Mikey would never see his brother again. They'd never have the monthly family dinner at their mom's house, but Gerard was okay with that. All he could think about at that time was the fact that everything was about to end for him.

He quickened his pace. The beating in his heart sped up, and he tripped, hands landing on the damp forest floor. The notebook flew out of his grip, but he was no longer worried about that. The noise of the wind was being muffled by his thoughts. His mind was set on jumping off the bridge. Nothing else mattered anymore; not even his notebook. He mindlessly scrambled back up on his feet and walked across the tracks of the train's bridge. The wind whipped at his jacket, but he couldn't hear or even feel a thing. It was like his entire being was drowned in what was about to happen. His hazel eyes looked straight ahead, for he didn't want to look down to where his lifeless body would soon lay.

Gerard scooted his foot an inch forward, then another inch, then a few more inches until the tip of his shoe was dangling over the edge of the bridge. His chest rapidly bounced up and down with each fast breath he took. Inside his head, everything disapeared. No more thoughts. His feet kept inching foreward little by little. Half of his foot hund over the edge. His weight shifted forward, then he was falling.

Falling from all his troubles. Flying through the air, the wind wrapped around his body, steadily carrying him down into the creek far below, but it was no longer far from him anymore. A few feet away the water rushed over the rocky shore. The feet turned to inches, and then everything went black. He did it. There was no going back. Gerard Way had killed himself.

Unfortuantly, Gerard hadn't heard the approaching foot steps before he was about to jump. Then the scream that escaped the boy's mouth, but the boy had been to late. Gerard had faintly heard the cry of a familiar voice as he fell into the creek, but he hadn't realized who the voice belonged to. It didn't matter anyway. He was dead now. Who ever the stranger had been, well, Gerard wouldn't have cared about them.

But Gerard _did_ care about the 'stranger'. Because it was no stranger; it was the boy from his English class. Frank had watched his drunken English teacher stumble through the woods where he had been walking through. He watched as he dropped his notebook, and he watched as the man jumped from the bridge. He could've said something to stop him, but it had been to late. Frank had missed him chance. And now, his English teacher's lifeless body was being washed downstream. Panic set in, adrenaline pumping through the boy's veins, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing but to lean over the bridge and witness the horror that laid across the rocks below.


	3. Untouchable

> _The fire's between us._
> 
> _Is there no place_
> 
> _Turning and turning in the middle air,_
> 
> _**Untouchable** and untouchable._
> 
> _-Getting There-Sylvia Plath_

When Gerard woke up, he was laying on the muddy bank of the creek with the tips of his toes just reaching the chilly water flowing a few feet away. The sun towered over him, but leaves from the trees blocked out most of the heat. His ratty clothes clung to his skin; Gerard couldn't tell if he was wet from the creek or from all the humidity. He fluttered his eyes open a few times and let them adjust to the morning haze. Bright rays of light danced through the leaves above him which captivated his attention for a few minutes. The songs of birds were sounding all throughout the the tall trees surrounding the creek. Along with the soft gurgle of water over the rocks of the creek, it was quite peaceful. Tranquil even.

So that was heaven? Gerard had made it? It surprised him a bit; he wasn't the most religious person, but he had made it to heaven. Yeah. Heaven. That explains the light coming from the sky above. People always claimed that they experience a blinding light when they have near death experiences right? Gerard was sure this was heaven. It had to be. Coulndn't be Hell because what had Gerard ever done to deserve that? As far as he could tell, there were no bubbling lakes of fire, and no man with horns on his head to greet him. Yeah. Definitely heaven. 

But where's God. And Jesus? And... angels or whatever you're supposed to see in this place? Why was he laying in a creek? Shouldn't he be floating on a cloud right about now?

Okay, so maybe Gerard wasn't too familiar with the bible, and he had no idea what to expect, but clouds seemed like a heaven sort of thing to him. So where were they? Gerard wanted to be up in the sky laying on a cloud, yet he could clearly see them blowing by above him in the bright sky. Shouldn't _he_ have been be in the sky? That's where the place after death is supposed to be, right? The bank of a creek is not heaven, and Gerard was definitely not in heaven.

Gerard had been calm. Really calm. Only because he thought he had made it to heaven. He had killed himself and finally made it to heaven; that's what he thought. The sound of chirping birds and the bright light had convinced him so, but then, laying there at the creek's shore, his hand dug into the soft mud at his sides. The little grains of dirt sifted through his finger tips and dripped back at his sides. It was a familiar feeling, and that's when he knew. He knew he wasn't in heaven.

To Gerard that meant one thing: He had failed. He had failed at what was his last hope for a relief from the consant pain of reality. He wasn't even good enough to kill himself. That left him laying in a puddle of mud that was beginning to seem more like a puddle of his on pity.

~ 

Mikey was seven at the time, and Gerard was eleven. It was strange just how clearly he could remember the day that they had played in that very mud together. Gerard was focused on building a sand castle, but Mikey was more interested in catching a baby frog in the creek. The brothers spent the majority of their summer playing at the edge of that creek: talking, joking, building things, and exploring. Come to think of it, that had to have been Gerard's favorite summer; just because everything had been impeccably perfect. The weather had been much like it was in that moment as Gerard laid on his back on the shore. And the mud... it still felt exactly the same. Sloppy and gritty in his hands. 

He let the mud drain out of his palm, and even though he still seem composed on the outside, his mind was beginning to swarm with questions. It was like a bee hive had been kicked, then everything fell on him all at once. The realization that he wasn't in heaven. He was laying in the very creek he had jumped into. He wasn't dead? No, no, no. He wanted to die. Why couldn't he have just died? How could he have survived his jump from the bridge? That would've been impossible. But there he was, laying a hundred yards from the infamous bridge. 

When he finally managed to sit his body up, he realized that his assumptions had been correct. He wasn't in heaven, and he was in fact alive. All Gerard could think was 'Why?.' Why couldn't he have just died like he wanted to. Why? He became angry at himself. Seeing the familiar forest around him made him want to scream out in frustration. No, this had not been his plan. He wanted to die. That's what he had wanted, and that's what he had aimed for when he had slipped his feet off of the bridge. His emotions were flying around him in every direction. He was confused, angry, and maybe even a little bit relieved to know that he was alive. Not that he wanted to be alive, but at the time, Gerard wasn't in the right mind set to think straight thoughts.

He scooted his body up so that he planted his shoes firmly into the mud underneath him. Surveying the area, he spotted the bridge. For a moment, he contemplated if he should just have another try at jumping off, but the thought sickened him. He'd never have the guts to kill himself in his sober state. He had forgotten all about his trip to the bar, in fact, he didn't remember much of anything last night. That's what drinking does to him. He stood there and tried to recall the events that occurred yesterday, but all he could remember was that he dropped his notebook. Such a small thing to worry about. 

Then a thought crossed his mind. Shouldn't he be having a hell of a hangover right now? Yet he felt perfectly fine. Maybe jumping off bridges is the one cure to a hangover. He didn't think much of it, but he'd soon realize just why there was no throbbing in his head from all the alcohol. It was just a matter of time until he understood everything. For now, he was focused on finding his journal and figuring out what he was to do next. His mind had been so fixated on leaving everyone and everything behind last night, it was a strange feeling to be back to reality.

The bridge stood to his right, still blending in with all the greenery, but then his eyes focused to a different color. A color that didin't belong with all the budding plants. Red.

He immediatly knew it was his blood. There was no other reason that the crimson liquid would be splattered across the rocks just below the bridge. Surprisingly, it didn't scare him at all. Even upon closer inspection after he walked up the the bridge, he wasn't startled by it. He felt fine. Gerard examined each of his exposed limbs for a sign of where the blood had come from. No deep gashes were on the side of his leg. No swollen ankles. Not even a scratch anywhere. 

That's when he started to worry. It was unusual to be hoping he could find some form of a wound on his body to explain the blood, but there was absolutely nothing. He jumped off of a bridge for fuck's sake; he should have some sort of scar to show for it... 

He decided the only thing that would help him was to find his journal. It was a sort of safety blanket for him. No matter the situation, it was always there for him. And right then, he really needed something. Anything that would remind him of his sanity. He precisely remembered where he had dropped it in his race to the bridge. It was just a matter of climbing up the steep slope of tall grass that would get him back to the top of the bridge. After quite a struggle with slipping down a few times, he made it back up to the top and glanced around, looking for the leather bound papers.

The notebook was no where in sight, and Gerard felt as if part of him had been ripped from his very own heart in that moment. It's like that few seconds of sheer panic when he used to wander a tad too far from his mother in the grocery store. He'd find himself lost in the frozen food section, and in his mind it felt like that was the end. He'd be kidnapped and never see his mom again. Of course, that was when he was little, but the feeling was all the same. That notebook was a part of him, and it was missing which didn't make him feel any better.

After searching through every bush and patch of grass in sight, he gave up and turned to walk back towards the main road. Gerard had no idea where he would go now. Not back to the apartment. Not back to work. Nah, maybe just the bar again. 

He was walking for only a few minutes when out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a boy. Not just any boy, but the boy known as Frank. The boy that was thoroughly described in his notebook as a rebel punk that happened to have a soft side. The boy that was sat leaned against the trunk of a tree with Gerard's notebook in his hands. Frank was reading it. He was fucking reading Gerard's story. That was not okay.

Gerard couldn't decide if he was angry or happy. Happy to find his notebook, but angry to find it sprawled open in Frank's lap. That was not where it belonged. No. Fucking hell, the boy was reading it- all of Gerard's deepest and darkest thoughts were in the hands of a highschooler. What if Frank read about himself in the notebook? Then what? Gerard would never be able to look him in the eyes again. He was a creep for putting him in the book. Damn. Okay, that was a bad idea. He should've known somethng like this would happen.

He was beginning to speculate that world just may be against him at that point. Absolutly nothing was going right from his perspective. First Tess cheats on him, then he ends up alive after the bridge incident, and now Frank's reading his journal.

But there was still some hope. Not much, but just enough for Gerard to refrain from running up to Frank, who had apparently not seen Gerard yet, and ripping the notebook from his grip. No, Gerard held onto the slim possibilty that Frank hadn't got to the point in the book where his character was introduced. He could just casually get his notebook back, and everything would be alright.

Unfortunately for Gerard, Frank had long passed the second chapter, in which he was introduced, and he was nearing the end of what Gerard had written so far, but of course, Gerard didn't know that yet. He decided to stay calm and nicely ask for the journal back. Hopefully the nosey kid would be cooperative. 

Gerard slowly moved his feet through the thickly leaf covered ground in the direction of Frank. The boy never once looked up from reading, which made Gerard's pace quicken. He was only a few feet away, and somehow Frank was so into the book that he hadn't once looked up, or even acknowledged Gerard's presence. 

Gerard cleared his raspy throat. "Uhm. I told you that you couldn't read that." He said, a bit unsure of himself as he stepped to Frank's side. 

Frank didn't look up.

Okay, now Gerard was a little angry. First Frank reads his notebook- which he clearly told him that he didn't want to let him read it. How did he find it anyway? Why would Frank be in the woods; it was a school day, and by the look of the sun's height, class would be starting soon. Second, Frank was now ignoring him. The little fucking punk had the nerve... Gerard's hands clenched at his sides, and he repeated himself, this time a little louder and with a hint of annoyance.

"Frank, I said you couldn't read that."

Again, Frank didn't look up. In fact, he turned the page and continued scanning every word on each page.

Gerard was now far beyond angry. He was fucking pissed. "Frank!" He roared. "Give me that!"

His hand went down to snatch it from the boy's greedy hands, but then something unexplainable happened. Something that puzzled him, and scared him, and made him want to curl up in a ball and just die.

His hand went through the notebook.

Not like, he punched through it, but his hand fucking passed through it, and his fingers ended up on the other side of it with the rest of his hand going through the pages.

One time when Gerard was six years old, he drew a picture in art class. It was something that he had seen in a dream. A black... thing. He wasn't really sure what it was, but he did his best to capture it's characteristics on the paper. The drawing actually looked quite nice for his abilities, but his art teacher- ah what was her name? Anyways, the art teacher refused to hang it up with the rest of the kinder-garden students' drawings because as she had said, it was 'just too horrifying for young children to see'. Gerard liked it. It wasn't just something he had imagined; he'd seen it in his dreams. In the art teacher's defence, it was quite 'horrifying', but Gerard was proud of it. Of course he wished that others could've been able to understand his drawing a little better, but then again, he didn't fully understand it himslef. Gerard started referring to the black thing as 'It'. There were no other words to describe it, so it became 'It'. It showed up frequently in his dreams, but them one day the dreams stopped; he never saw It again.

That is, until his hand was halfway through the notebook. Then he saw It again. Not with his eyes, but somewhere deep in the crevices of his brain the image was pulled from his childhood and flashed in front of his eyes for a split second. He stumbled backwards and landed with a thump in the grass. 

His eyes were wide and darting in every direction. Gerard hadn't seen It since he was six, and now It just makes a sudden reappearance? And his hand just fucking passed through his fucking notebook, and just holy fuck. What was going on?

Frank still hadn't looked up from reading, but Gerard was no longer angry at him. For the time being, his emotions had been altered from pissed off to scared shitless.

"Frank!" He screamed. "Frank?!"

No response.

"Frank!" His voice was high pitched and desperate, but he didn't care how vulnerable he sounded at the moment. Why wasn't Frank looking at him. Was this some sort of sick joke? Because Gerard was not laughing, and his fucking hand just went through a fucking book. 

He breathed out loudly and laid his head down onto the leaves covering the ground. Everything was weird. Nothing was normal. Apparently Frank couldn't see let alone hear Gerard, and not to mention, his hand just fucking passed through a book... And that thing... the It. Why had he just seen it? Why now? After so many years...

He was dreaming. Yeah. That's what he told himself. This was all just one big dream, but at the same time he knew it wasn't. Everything felt too real. Like the noise coming from the wind lightly blowing through the trees above him, and the sound of fingers against paper as Frank turned the page again.

He wasn't dreaming, and he knew that for a fact. No dreams were this real- this vivid.

"Frank?" He called out. His voice was only a few feet away from the boy, but Frank heard not a thing. "Frank! Frank, please, please... Can you hear me?!" He was screaming, and he was well aware that the boy couldn't hear him.

He clambered up onto his feet and bent over towards Frank who was still sat leaning against the trunk of the tree. "Frank?" he whispered. Then he saw the words on the page. The very words that he, himself had written not but a day ago. Scribbled messily in the middle of a paragraph of his book; the words stood out to him. 'No one could see the pain in his eyes. No one could hear his cries. Not until the hour came.'

"You can't hear me can you, Frank?" Gerard was on the edge of tears because now it all made sense. Frank couldn't hear him. Frank couldn't see him. 

It was all too much. The book. He was like the man in his book. 

"Frank..." It was useless. Gerard slumped over with his head about to lean on the sturdy trunk of the tree, but then he felt himself slowly sinking into the tree; it was the same feeling of when his hand passed through his book. Gerard jumped to his feet and gathered his thoughts as he paced back and forth in front of the boy

Okay. So this wasn't a dream. It was fucking exactly like his book. Almost word for word. 'No one could see the pain in his eyes. No one could hear his cries. Not until the hour came.' Gerard stopped walking and just stood there for a moment, trying to grasp everything that was happening. If this was like his book... Did that mean he was dead? Wait no; in his book, the man wasn't dead, but he wasn't alive either... So... he wasn't alive? 

He felt alive. His hands traveled up to his face and traced over his eyes and nose and mouth. Gerard was still very much himself. There was one change he did notice though. As he held two fingers tightly against his neck, searching for a pulse, that's when he really knew for sure that he was no longer alive. 

There was no beat of his heart. No thump of the artery in his neck. No blood running through his veins. 

Gerard Way wasn't alive, and Gerard Way wasn't dead. He was officially in the In-between. 

Gerard wasn't normally the over sensitive type. The last time he had cried had been a few months ago in the shower which he hated to admit. The shower was the one place he could cry and not be heard. He had had a bad day at work, and Tess was picking fights with him about every little thing, so he did what anyone else would do and cried. 

But at that very moment, with Frank leaned against the tree reading the notebook that his hand just passed through, and with the realization that he wasn't fucking alive anymore, Gerard couldn't hold in his emotions any longer. Quiet sobs escaped from his lips as he sat himself down in the grass a foot in front of Frank. It was pointless for him to even attempt being quiet, for no one could hear him anyway. But Gerard did have a bit of his dignity left, so he refrained from crying out.

"Frank." He said said as he wiped off his now damp cheeks. "Frank..." He stopped himself from saying his name again. Gerard was very aware that he sounded like a three year old, but he was only talking to himself anyways. He was craving attention right then; to tell Frank what was happening. Did Frank even know he jumped from the bridge yet? And how will people ever find out about his death if there's no body for evidence? He had to tell someone what he was thinking; he wanted someone to tell him that he wasn't insane. Frank would be the only one that would possibly understand, considering that he was reading the book. Gerard ached to explain his theory. It wasn't really much of a theory; Gerard knew for sure what was going on. It was scary just how close all of it was to his own book. Word for word. Gerard was living in his own writings. 

He really, really wanted a hug in that moment. A hug, that was all he wanted. For Frank to wrap his arms around Gerard and to tell him that everything was going to be alright. That they'd figure something out together. Gerard liked that word -together. Especially when the word was relating to Frank. 

Okay, Gerard realized that was creepy to think, but he couldn't help himself. He liked Frank, and Frank was the only one who would ever understand what was happening to him. The boy had read the book, and he knew _everything_. That notebook wasn't only scribbed with his story idea. It was also filled with any thought that happened to cross Gerard's mind. Like the paragraph he'd written about the time he saw someone spit their gum out in the parkinglot of a grocery story. Just random insights to Gerard's oh-so boring life.

Frank was the only person who Gerard would be able to talk to about his current 'situation' to. If only Frank could actually hear him; then maybe Gerard could make himself calm down. Of course, Gerard did know that Frank would be able to hear him, it was just a matter of time. If whatever was happening to Gerard was really just like in his book, he should've been able to talk to Frank in The Hour. For one hour every night, the man in his book came back alive. Maybe then Gerard could talk to Frank and just get all the over whelming feelings out of him. 

Gerard was sat in front of the boy who was still nose deep in his notebook. He was done feeling nervous about Frank reading it. In fact, he wanted Frank to read it, so that when Gerard got the opportunity to talk to Frank later when The Hour came, the boy would know exactly what he was talking about. Hopefully Frank wouldn't think he was crazy, and hopefully Gerard would be able to figure something out... A way to go back to normal, but he didn't have the energy to even ponder a way to stop whatever was happening to him at the moment, he just wanted to talk. If he wanted to talk then he was going to have to wait. Something Gerard was never very fond of. 

There was a sudden rustle of leaves, and Gerard's head lifted quickly to watch as Frank brought the notebook to a close, leaned back against the tree, and rose to his feet. Gerard scrambled up, doing the same. The boy walked right past him, heading in the direction of school. Following close behind, Gerard made it to school with Frank. He felt oddly relieved to be at the school which he hadn't expected. Maybe it was because he was there with Frank, or maybe because he wouldn't have to suffer through talking to the overly happy counselor... 

Mainly because he was with Frank, but Gerard wouldn't admit that to himself. Not yet anyway.

Gerard watched as Frank awkwardly walked through the halls of the high school alone. Of course, Frank wasn't entirely alone; Gerard was standing there next to him as he collected a binder from his locker, and made his way to class. Gerard instinctivley dodged out of the way of other passing students until he realized that it was no longer nessicary for him to do. One of the kids that Gerard often spotted hanging around with all the tall jocks walked straight through him. Gerard's eyes had scrunched up, bracing himself for impact until he remembered the man in his book. The man could easily walk through people, walls, you name it. He could walk through it. He was like... a ghost... But not a ghost... No, no, no. Gerard was not a ghost. He didn't believe in silly things like that. The man in his book was no ghost, and Gerard was no ghost.

He had to admit, following the boy around felt strange and like a major invasion of Frank's privacy at first, but it was his only option. Gerard was just killing time until The Hour when he would be alive once again. Then he could talk to Frank about his notebook, and he would try and work together to figure something out. A way to get everything back to normal... Frank would be the only person to understand, so Gerard made it his duty to follow Frank around until The Hour finally arrived.

Gerard didn't feel the least bit guilty for abandoning his job. He had always despised it, and as he walked through the familiar classroom doorway, he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. No more grading papers. No more dealing with smartass comments from the kids who sit at the back. No more being burdened by all the daily mundane tasks that go along with being a teacher... 

Frank sat in his usual desk, still holding Gerard's notebook tightly in his hands as Gerard stood behind his teacher's desk in a sort of natural habit. The class filled with students then the bell rang. Class should've been starting, but obviously there was no teacher. Frank's head was laid on the desk for the entire class period; not once lifting even when the substitute teacher showed up after twenty minutes of a teacher-less classroom.

Gerard could obviously see that something was wrong with Frank. He could tell by the way his head hung low as the boy walked to his second period math class and by the way his eyes never focused on anything but the ground for more than a few seconds. Gerard couldn't help but wonder if Frank was somehow upset after reading his notebook... Maybe it had creeped the boy out to find that he was a character... Or maybe Frank knew something had happened to Gerard. He wasn't too sure what to think. Frank was always a mystery to Gerard. He was determined to figure Frank out someday, but that wouldn't be possible if Gerard was invisible to him.

He'd just have to hold off all of his questions until The Hour came. Until then, he followed the boy around the whole day. Gerard had thought it would be somewhat interesting to be invisible and watch someone for a day. It would allow you to see someone for who they really were; to see how they were when they were alone and when no one else was with them. Unfortunately, Frank's head was always looking down or laid on a desk. The boy's lips never parted to communicate with a single soul, and Gerard was a bit disappointed. He had expected to be able to understand Frank a little better after spending an entire day with him, even if he couldn't talk directly to the boy.

But actually, Gerard did get his chance to see Frank show a little emotion- well, in that case, it was a lot of emotion...

It was time for the lunch break, and instead of Frank going to the cafeteria to chow down on some cheap food served by a lunch lady like the rest of the school, the boy made a bee line towards the restrooms on the second floor. The ones right across from Gerard's classroom where Frank would've normallt gone to spend his lunch break.

Gerard was hesitant about following him into the bathroom. It was weird enough that he was following the boy around like a lost puppy, but in the end, he went inside. Did I mention that he didn't have to open the door? Nope, opening doors was no longer a necessity for Gerard.

His body tingled as he passed through the thick wooden door. He was beginning to like this whole 'invisibility' thing... It made getting around much easier.

Then a sound filled his ears as it echoed and bounced off the dark blue tiles of the bathroom. The sound of a subtle and quiet cry.

Gerard found Frank locked in the corner stall, his head in his hands as he sat on the floor. Never had Gerard imagined seeing Frank cry. Never. It just seemed out of the realm of possibility for the little punk, but Gerard was beginning to realize that maybe there was more to Frank than he had originally thought.

He so badly wanted to comfort the boy, as he sat there on the cold tiled floor, but there was nothing he could do. An anger built up inside of him. If Gerard hadn't jumped from the bridge, none of this would be happening. Why was this happening? Why couldn't he have just died like anyone else would've? Frank didn't deserve this. And it was Gerard's fault that he was crying his eyes out on the bathroom floor.

There were so many unanswered questions buzzing in his mind; it was all too overwhelming for him, so he stuffed them down into the back of his head. Gerard was tired of wondering why it was happening; he was more worried about how to go back to normal. 

There was a boy at his feet crying, and there wasn't a thing Gerard could do about it all because of one stupid, drunken mistake from the night before. 

Of course, he couldn't hold back his instincts.

"Frank..." His own voice surprised himself. He hadn't talked much that day... "Frank, it's alright." Gerard was well aware that Frank couldn't hear him; he just felt that he had to at least do something, if only to comfort himself. Upon impulse, Gerard's hand shot down to reassuringly grip the boy's shoulder, but then something happened as the tips of his fingers came into contact with Frank's slumped over shoulder. 

It wasn't the tingling that Gerard had felt when he passed through the door, or when his hand passed through the notebook earlier. No, it was a much different feeling. It was like being electrocuted. A jolt of... well, Gerard wasn't really sure what it was, ran up his arm in a split second. He whipped his arm back to his side. That wasn't the feeling he'd experienced when he accidentally ran into the kid in the hallway earlier. It was much different. Almost like a feeling of electricity that had coursed throuth his body in an instant.

There was no reaction of the touch from Frank; the boy sat there and wiped away the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks. Gerard felt terrible that he couldn't do anything to comfort Frank at all. He had no idea what the boy would be crying about, then an image flashed through his mind. Well, not really an image, more of a sound- a voice to be exact. The voice he had heard when he was falling from the bridge. 

He immediately recognized the words that had been called out to him. At first Gerard had paid no attention to the voice, but then he realized that the words had come from Frank.

Frank had seen Gerard kill himself. 

That's why he was crying? Gerard was surprised to find out that Frank cared enough about his English teacher to cry over him... Then again he had felt pretty close to Frank over the few days that they had known one another.

It somewhat relieved him to know that Frank cared about him. It even made him want to smile, but his want to smile was faded by the fact that the boy was at his feet crying, thinking that Gerard was really dead. He'd have to wait until The Hour until Frank would be able to see him. Until then, Gerard had to suffer through watching Frank mope around the rest of the day, and that's exactly what he did. 

Frank soon calmed himself down and wiped his face off with the cheap, itchy paper towels in the restroom. The rest of Gerard's day was spend following Frank around as the boy continued to lay his head down at every chance that was presented to him. After what seemed like the longest day of Gerard's life, the last bell finally rang, releasing him from his oh-so boring day. Gerard was growing impatient; he just wanted to talk to Frank, but of course, he had to wait for The Hour to come. From two a.m to three a.m Gerard would be able to be seen by Frank. That was a long ways away in Gerard's mind, but there was nothing he could do except to wait. 

Frank's walk home didn't last long, and soon Gerard found himself standing in front of a little one story house complete with a row of long dead shrubs lining the front of the yard. Frank fiddled with the key in the door until it turned open. Gerard followed closely behind Frank as he walked through the narrow hallway and into his bedroom. The boy's room was nothing special. Just and bed, night table, and dresser. A few moving boxes were stacked in the corner, and it was apparent that Frank hadn't completely settled into his new home. 

Gerard had been excited to see Frank's room in hopes that he would learn more about Frank, but again he was disappointed which only made him more eager for The Hour to come. He couldn't wait to tell Frank that he wasn't dead, and that maybe they could find a way to fix everything. Frank dropped his binder along with Gerard's notebook down on the floor at the edge of his bead, then he dramatically plopped face down onto the bed muttering incoherent phrases that were muffled by his pillow. 

Gerard's impatience to talk grew even more when Frank fell asleep after only five minutes of being home from school. He was taking a fucking nap. There was so much Gerard needed to say, and everything felt so urgent, yet Frank was taking a nap. In Frank's defence, he knew nothing that was going on with Gerard in that moment. The boy was sure that his teacher was gone forever. 

This is not Twilight. Gerard didn't stick around like Edward who would've watched Bella sleeping. Instead, Gerard left Frank in his room, and he wondered around the house for a few hours. It was a fairly small house, but Gerard examined every detail he could because- well, he had nothing better to do to pass the time. He didn't find much; most things were still waiting to be unpacked, but Gerard did find something that made him smile. 

It was stuck to the fridge with a magnet. The quiz he had graded just the other day; the one that Frank had gotten a one hundred on. Gerard stared at the paper for a long time; grazing his eyes over each twist and turn in Frank's hand writing. He was getting lost in the writing until his ears perked up at the sound of the front door being opened. 

A woman with her hair tied up messily in a bun stomped into the kitchen. Gerard jumped as she walked past him. He quickly remembered that she wouldn't be able to see him, and he didn't need to worry about being seen awkwardly standing in the middle of the stranger's kitchen. That still didn't take away the ever present feeling that he was intruding on the family. 

"Frank!" The woman- obviously Frank's mom- called out as she opened the fridge, inspecting the inside for something to eat. "Frankie?" She waited a moment for a response, but it never came. "Always sleeping" she muttered to herself as she shook her head and pulled out a frozen pizza to stick in the oven. 

There was no sense in him sticking around all night, so he found his way outside.

The rest of Gerard's evening was spent walking around Frank's neighborhood in order to get some fresh air and to try to kill time until The Hour came. He mapped out everything he planned to say to Frank. Down to every last word. And when the sky _finally_ turned the familiar shade of dark blue, Gerard made his way back into the bedroom of Frank to find that the boy had just woken up. The clock on his night stand had just struck midnight. The Hour was approaching.

It was almost time for Gerard to have a go at explaining everything to Frank. 

12:00

1:00

1:30

The time dragged on, making Gerard pace back and forth in front of Frank who was sitting on his bed working on what looked to be math homework. If his heart could've been pumping blood in that moment, it would've been racing with anticipation. It wouldn't be much longer until he was finally presented with the opportunity to talk to Frank like he'd been waiting for all day. 

1:50

1:55

1:59

...

2:00

For a moment nothing happened, and Gerard almost thought that maybe something was wrong, then all of a sudden there was a crashing wave of warmth that spread throughout Gerard's entire body. The comforting warmth of blood that had begun to flow in his veins once again. He felt... alive... A smile spread across his face as he looked down to the color returning under his skin. 

Frank's head shot up to see the man standing before his bed. The boy's eyes grew wide, and his mouth gaped open to form an 'o' shape. He scrambled back on his bed, kicking his feet out from under himself. "Wha- How... What the fuck are you?!" Frank's voice hissed through the dimly lit room. 

"Frank... Okay, I know this is weir-" Gerard threw his hands up in defence.

"Who the fuck are you?! Wha- Oh god, I'm going insane aren't I?" Frank held his hands up to hold his own forehead. Harsh whispers came out from under the boy's breath. Gerard couldn't make out much other than. "I'm crazy. He's not real."

This was going to be much harder than he had origianlly thought...

"Frank." Gerard said, moving closer to the side of the bed. "I-... Just please listen for a minute. You're the only one who will be able to understand..."

Frank's head lifted up and his eye brows were brought together tightly in a frown. "I- I'm crazy... Holy fuck, I'm seeing things, but you look so... real." The boy looked at Gerard as if he was the scariest thing he'd ever seen which made Gerard feel absolutly terrible about himself. He wasn't some monster, and he never meant to scare Frank the way he had.

"I'm real." Gerard sighed. "Just listen-... You read my book right?" Gerard shifted on his heels.

Frank's panic stricken face softened out as he calmed himself down a bit. The boy frowned and unexpectedly, his arm jutted out to grip Gerard's upper arm. Frank's fingers wrapped tightly around Gerard's smooth skin. They remained there for a long moment as Frank stared at his own hand clutching onto his very real- not imaginary- English teacher's arm. Apparently, feeling to see if Gerard wasn't some really vivid form of Frank's imagination had been enough convincing. Frank's hand fell back to his side. 

"I saw you jump though..." Frank said with confusion eating at every word.

So Frank had seen him jump. That had been his voice that called out after him as Gerard was falling. The boy looked Gerard in the eyes, and Gerard was sure in that moment that Frank knew it was really him. He could tell by the way that the look in his eye changed to a more familiar gaze. The one like when their hands had touched the other day as they had both reached for the notebook at the same time. 

"I did jump. Frank, I can't really explain why this is happening to me, but my book- the story in the notebook... It's happening to me..." Gerard explained.

"'What? Like the man in the book..." He seemed to proccess that through his brain for a moment, digging deep in his mind for something in particular. "But I'm in that- your book..." Frank looked up questionably at Gerard.

Gerard's hand nervously scratched the back of his head. He hadn't prepared explaining that to Frank, so he quickly skipped the subject. "You read it right?" He questioned.

"Well yeah." Frank answered as he stood up from his bed, examining Gerard up and down from head to toe. "Please tell me that you're real and that I don't belong in some mental hospital..."

"The man in the book... I-I'm like him..." Gerard's face was trying to read Frank's emotions as he pointed his finger to his notebook still laying on the floor.

"I don't believe you." Frank stated firmly more to himself than to Gerard. "This is just a dream."

At that point Gerard was about to give up. It was all too much for him, and he'd never felt so frusterated in his entire life. 

"No!" argued Gerard. "Frank. Please. I-It's me Ger-... Mr. Way..."

Frank paused for a moment and seemed to be deciding if he could believe the strange man standing before him. Gerard watched as the boy's hazel eyes traveled to the tattered notebook. He seemed to be studying it deep inside; flipping through each page he had read in his mind. Frank turned his head up to  face Gerard. His face was soft, yet still stand off-ish. 

"But... How?" Frank's voice was confused, and Gerard immediately let his shoulders relax because he could tell that Frank believed him. The hard part was over.

"I-I don't really know how or why." Gerard explained as he glanced back to the notebook.

"So, You-... You tried to kill yourself then... then what happened?" Frank's eyes were digging into Gerard's as he spoke. Gerard searched for any rational answer to the boy's question, but there was no explanation, just more unanswered questions. 

 "I have no idea, but everything that has happened to me since I jumped is just like the plot in my book... I-I can't figure anything out Frank... Just please, tell me that you believe me. It's really me- Gera-...Mr. Way."

Frank stood up a little taller, and let out a short, breathy sigh. "I believe you... and just so you know, I'm aware that your name is actually Gerard, so you can stop correcting yourself." There was the faintest hint of a smile on Frank's face as he completed his sentence, but what the boy had just said made Gerard grin as wide as ever.

Finally, the Frank he knew was back in sight. He felt that he could finally breathe again after waiting all day just to have someone understand what was happening to him. "Wait." Something seemed to click in Frank's mind as he spoke. "I can see you, so that means it's The Hour right now?"

"Yeah." Gerard confirmed. 

Frank looked down to the floor and nervously fidgeted with his feet. "I thought I would never see you again..." he mumbled in direction of the carpet at the edge of his bed. 

Gerard nervously shifted his feet at the comment. The image of the boy crying his eyes out on the bathroom floor earlier flashed through Gerard's mind, and he realized that maybe Frank cared more about him than he had originally thought. 

"I-... I'm sorry." Gerard wasn't really sure on what the correct response to Frank's statement would be; he wasn't used to feeling needed by anyone. This was all new to him. There was a moment of silence between the two before Gerard heard a rustle of movement come from Frank, and the boy's hands slowly lifted up and wrapped around him. Gerard's body stiffened up at the sudden touch, but then relaxed into the hug. 

To some people, a hug is just a hug; nothing more, but in that moment, to Gerard, it was so much more. It was saying that Frank believed him, Frank supported him, and that Frank actually cared about him. Gerard allowed himself to bring up his own arms around the boy. Frank's head came to a rest on Gerard's chest as the boy took a sharp intake of breath almost like he was trying to hold back tears. 

"You shouldn't have done it." Frank's voice pulled Gerard out of his trance, and he backed away a few inches to figure out what he was talking about.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have jumped." 

"I know. It was...stupid." Gerard sighed. 

Frank dropped his body back down on the edge of his bed and muttered something under his breath as he shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds. "This means that come three a.m, I'm not gonna be able to see you, aren't I?" He finally spoke out.

"No." Gerard's voice dragged out. He desperately wished that he could spend a whole day with Frank- well a whole day in which he could actually be seen that is.

Frank remained leaned back on the side of his bed, head facing up towards the ceiling like it was scribed with the answers to all his problems. Gerard intently studied the boy laying before him. The way his grey shirt was fringed at the edges, and the way Frank's pale stomach peeked out just above the seem of his jeans. He could see the boy's chest rise and fall with each breath he took. The feeling that Frank gave him... It was something that he cherished right then. It was like the feeling he used to get when he watched as his crush in eight grade would simply walk past him in the hallway, but it was something much more than that even though it left him feeling like he was back to his hormonal highschool lust days. He was done lying to himself. He liked Frank.

A lot.

And that was bad.

Very bad.


End file.
